The Girl
by ArwenJaneLilyLyra
Summary: Love is something that has to be fought for. And sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you just can't fight hard enough.


The Girl

"If you walk out of that door, Teddy Lupin, I swear, you will never re-enter again."

The young man turned slowly to face Victoire. His hair was a bright Weasley red and his eyes were an exact replica of his Godfather's today, very different from his usual bright violet locks and quick silver eyes. The young woman glared, her lips set in an angry scowl that wasn't becoming on her perfect, French features. She tossed her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder impatiently, and her bright blue eyes, large forget-me-nots, were brimming with tears.

"Is that a promise, Vic?" Teddy asked, seriously.

The woman bared her teeth aggressively.

"That's a guarantee."

And so he left.

The twenty year old girl felt her heart stutter as he closed the door quietly behind him. He had actually gone; he had walked right out of her door. Was this what they had become?

The tears that had been pulled back by her strength of mind, spilled onto Victoire's face and a ripping sob broke through her defences. Why? Why had he left?

_You know why, don't ask stupid questions_. Victoire heard a voice in the back of her mind tell her wisely. That made it no easier to bear the knowledge that the man she truly loved had just abandoned her. That wasn't what true love was. True love was to overcome the obstacles. Not give a half-hearted attempt to break through, and then give up. What happened to his Gryffindor courage? As her knees hit the floor, Victoire allowed another sob to resound in her empty flat, letting the echoes surround her, reminding her that she was alone.

He had left. He wasn't coming back.

_One hour before_

Teddy rolled over in the bed, to find Victoire lying sound asleep, her hair scattered across her face and the bed covers only covering the lower half of her legs. Pressing a hand to her arm, he found she was freezing, and hastily dragged the duvet back over her, tucking her in snugly before kissing her head softly and making to get up.

As he did so, an icy hand grabbed his own and a gentle voice murmured sleepily.

"Stay."

So he did. Rolling his eyes, Teddy Lupin crept back under the covers and allowed his freezing girlfriend to wrap her cold body around his own, searching for warmth.

"Vic, I have to go to work."

"No you don't," she informed him, still not opening her eyes. "You can just stay in bed with me all day, and never get up again."

Teddy raised his eyebrows, "Oh, really? And how do you propose we, you know, live? I think we'd run out of money eventually."

Victoire smiled into Teddy's chest, shaking her head, as if she thought her boyfriend to be a simpleton by what he said. Her eyes still closed in a vain attempt to resume her dream where she left it, she muttered, "Don't be so silly. My parents are both rich, they're going to sustain us forever and ever and ever."

Thinking her own words to be some romantic gesture, the blonde girl lifted a hand to run through Teddy's hair, which was his signature colour – deep violet – and pressed her lips against his own in a slow, loving kiss. Teddy however, froze under her touch, remaining unresponsive as she tried to deepen the kiss. Realising he wasn't going to kiss her back, Victoire leaned back to look into his eyes questioningly.

"What?"

Teddy watched her thoughtfully for a moment, trying to get his emotions in order before speaking.

"What do you mean by that?"

Victoire gave a musical laugh and tried to ruffle his hair playfully, but he ducked out of her way.

"Nothing, Teddy baby." She assured him, slipping out from under the covers a grabbing one of Teddy's big jumpers to wear over her silk nightgown. It didn't match at all, but she looked all the more beautiful, and normally, Teddy would have pointed this out to her, but today he didn't. Instead he pushed back the quilt and leapt lightly out of bed, throwing a T-shirt on hastily.

"No, you meant something by that. What did you mean by, '_they're going to _sustain us forever'?" he demanded, his hair tinged red as his annoyance grew.

On a normal day, Victoire would have made one of her old jokes about how strange it was for Teddy's hair to change with his moods, but today she didn't.

"I didn't, I swear Teddy. I meant _nothing_ by it."

Teddy gave a short, mirthless laugh, his eyes turning colder as he surveyed the beautiful blonde wearing nothing more than a lacy pink night dress and scruffy black jumper.

"You're still getting money off them aren't you?"

Her silence was answer enough.

"Oh come on, Vic. This is ridiculous; you genuinely don't trust me do you?" The man looked hurt by her silent admission; there was a glint of surprised upset in his stormy eyes. The woman nibbled at her lip in guilt.

"I don't know where all your money goes, Teddy. How can I be sure? I need something to keep me going until I finish training to be a Healer. It's just for now."

Teddy's laugh was not only mirthless this time, but derisive too. He threw his arms up in the air and looked to the ceiling as if in frustration.

"Oh, just for now, is it? Well, it's nice to know you have such faith in me." There was scorn tainting his voice as he spat his words at the girl and Victoire flinched.

"It has nothing to do with not believing you, Teddy. I do, I swear I do. But put yourself in my position. What if? That 'if' is always going to be there, my parents are giving me monthly money because, on the off chance you go back to the same as before, I'll have stored up enough to support myself, and not be left stranded."

Her voice was frail and her words broke as they left her lips. Their shattered remains hung in the air, spreading the two lovers even further apart in the cramped room. Teddy's mocking expression fell and was replaced by disbelief and pain.

"Then put yourself in my position, Victoire." His voice was low and dangerous as he spoke. "Your best friend dies, and it's all your fault. After nearly three fucking years, you manage to drag yourself out of the bottom of a Firewhiskey bottle; all because of one girl."

There was a slight manic craze in Teddy's eyes as he stared at Victoire, and she felt a urge to console him, but knew that was the last thing she should do. A tear rolled slowly down the young man's face and Victoire's heart began to beat faster as the desperation to wipe it lovingly away grew more and more impossible to beat down.

"And now, you find out not only, does the _one girl _who stood by you throughout everything you've been through, not trust you, but she still thinks you're pickling yourself senseless whenever her back is turned!" Teddy shouted the last few words, and the young woman flinched when he kicked the bed post violently. He would never hurt Victoire, but she tended to feel a little vulnerable when he was like this. Why had she said it? Why? Couldn't she just have kept her mouth shut?

"I haven't so much as _looked_ at a drop of alcohol in months, Vic – months. It's been so damn hard, so fucking damn hard. But every time I was tempted, I forced myself away. For you; always for you. How can you not trust me? Isn't that what this so called _'love '_is supposed to be based on? Trust?" A sob broke through Victoire's silent demeanour and she took a shuddering breath, but before she could speak, Teddy continued.

"Well fuck you. Fuck you if you don't think I'm capable of being more than a drunk half-werewolf with no prospects and no chance of a future that doesn't involve getting pissed out of my head every day and night. How could you think that of me?"

Teddy turned to face the window, his hands on the ledge and his head bowed as he tried to hold his anger in, his fingers denting the wooden frames and he gripped them tightly, venting his fury on inanimate objects so as not to hurt the woman standing behind him. Blinking tears out of his eyes, he bit his lip as Victoire's soft voice spoke into the pregnant silence that had followed his speech.

"I c-can't help it, T-Teddy. I know you've g-got more money than that. Where has it all g-gone?" she hiccoughed. She forced her own anger down, trying to remain calm but only sounding pathetic as she whimpered to his back that faced her. A shudder rippled through his back and he turned, betrayed fury in his eyes that were a blazing gold, his hair having deepened to a crimson red of anger and pain.

"You want to know where it's gone?" he asked, and Victoire nodded silently.

In three strides he reached for the bed side cabinet. Wrenching open the drawer, he snatched something out of it and threw it at the blonde girl's feet.

"There, if you're so damn curious, there."

And with that he stormed past her to the closet, which he proceeded to open and heave his things out of.

Tears began to slip past Victoire's defences as she reached down and picked up a small, black box. Her breath caught in her throat as she undid the clip and opened it slowly. Inside, was a ring. It was a small band of silver, and set in between two small moonstones, was what looked like a sapphire – the exact colour of her eyes.

With a cry, she turned around in time to see Teddy walking out of th bedroom door, a bag in his hand.

"Don't you walk away from me Teddy Lupin! You get back here. Damnit get back here right now! Fuck me? Fuck _you_ if you are going to throw this at me and walk away. I'm sorry for caring about you! I'm sorry for being concerned about you! Is that a crime?"

Her anger riled up, Victoire marched up to the doorway leading into the small hallway and threw the box back at Teddy, who let it drop to the floor, where it stayed. He looked upon her with sad eyes, now brightening to an emerald green, much like his Godfather's.

"I'm sorry too Vic. I'm sorry that I wanted to buy you the best. I'm sorry I didn't forewarn you I was going to ask you to be with me for the rest of our lives. I'm sorry that I loved you."

His voice was quiet and Victoire gave a laugh that bordered on hysterical.

"That you _loved_ me? So you don't anymore? Love is never lost, _Theodore_, only misplaced at times. You can't just stop loving me! Nothing you could ever do could stop me loving you. I would still love you if you _were_ still an alcoholic! It wouldn't matter. I love you. Don't just give up because I made a stupid mistake!" There was pleading in her tones as she watched Teddy run a hand through his hair dejectedly. How had they come to this? It had started out so well.

"If you can't trust me, how do I trust you Victoire? I'm just leaving for a while. We'll talk about it, if you want. If you genuinely think we can work things out, and I hope you do, then we'll talk. But I can't stay here right now."

He turned to leave and Victoire screamed at him.

"If you walk out of that door, Teddy Lupin, I swear, you will never re-enter again."

Teddy turned slowly and asked in a small voice, "Is that a promise, Vic?"

And Victoire replied, in the only manner she could. "That's a guarantee."

So he left. And Victoire let the tears fall freely as she fell to the floor in despair. A small black box lay three feet away from her, and a wardrobe only half full, stood in her bedroom, her clothes looking lonely, when no longer accompanied by Teddy's shirts and robes.

He had left. He wasn't coming back.

_One hour later_

Teddy flicked the top of his empty glass lightly, indicating to the barman to fill it up once more with warm, amber liquid that burnt his throat and eased the pain in his heart as his thoughts became more and more indistinguishable and his speech all the more slurred.

"Been a while since we've seen you here, Teddy," commented the barman, Timothy. Teddy gave a grunt of agreement, his left hand cradling his chin while his right brought the now full glass to his lips. As the fiery liquid slipped down his throat, Teddy could hear a mumble of voices in the back of his head. Sometimes one would become more prominent, and he'd hear Vic telling him if he loved her, he'd put the glass down. Then he'd recognise Harry, the closest thing he had to a father, telling him not to be so stupidly reckless and to stop drinking so dangerously.

Ignoring all the imaginary warnings rumbling in his head, Teddy had Timothy refill his glass once more and gulped down another shot. He had lost count of how many drinks he'd had but he knew it was more than he should have done.

But then another voice rose up above the rest of the scattered warnings from his family. It was a soft voice, he knew it well, though he'd only heard it once before in his life. He remembered their conversation. A conversation he hadn't been able to admit to anyone. Not even Vic.

"_Well, I'm glad you came to see me Theodore."_

"_Teddy," the young man corrected, and blushed slightly at the glint in the woman's eyes as repeated, "Teddy," to him. Her dark, chestnut hair was pinned up elegantly, though a few strands had fallen down throughout her no doubt, hectic day at work._

_He was sitting on a stool in the woman's office. This woman, was a Healer at St Mungo's though she seemed to be a little out of place surrounded by charts and diagrams and recipes for healing potions. She'd have suited something more glamorous; perhaps a beauty parlour or something of the sort. Her skin was a tan colour, and perfect but for the dark shape a muggle tattoo on the side of her neck._

"_How long have you been drinking for Teddy?" she questioned him, and Teddy's eyes dropped from the unusual symbol burnt into her skin, to his knees._

"_A while," he admitted to her, picking at a scar on his hand absently._

_The Healer gave him a noise, somewhere between a disbelieving snort and an impatient huff._

"_How long, Teddy?" she demanded, tapping her manicured nail on her clipboard._

"_About three years I guess."_

_Teddy looked up to see her dark eyes surveying him sadly. A flush rose in his cheeks and his gaze dropped once more. Had it really been that long?_

"_It seems you came to see me just in time." She informed him, trying to be formal, but there was a grief colouring her tone that told him otherwise. "Magical alcohol is very different to Muggle alcohol, as you should well know, Teddy. It's much more potent, and dangerous. Much more of it and you'd be beyond help."_

_The woman turned and began rooting through drawers. Teddy stared at her back with scrutinising intensity._

"_What's that supposed to mean?" he asked slowly and deliberately. As if not quite wanting to hear her reply, but asking all the same._

"_It means that you haven't taken care of yourself, Mr Lupin. It means you've managed to drink yourself into a dangerous condition. May I ask, is there a particular reason you've realised you need to stop this habit?" she enquired gently, glancing back at him as she began to pour some ingredients into a simmering cauldron._

"_Well," Teddy began, thinking of the young woman waiting for him. "It's a girl. She's made me see how I can't keep this up. She's the only one that's never lost faith in me. Even Harry…" he said, but broke off, unable to tell the Healer what his Godfather had said to him._

"_She's incredible. I love her so much, and I need to be good enough for her. I need to prove to her I'm more than this." He insisted, and the Healer smiled fondly at the way his face unconsciously lit up when he spoke of this mysterious girl._

"_Well, all I can say is thank Merlin for her. But I feel that if your love isn't strong enough to save you, then…" she spoke delicately and Teddy frowned slightly at the way her words tailed away into nothingness._

"_What?" he asked reluctantly._

"_Well, let's just say, no matter what happens with this girl, you mustn't go back to drinking. Your body isn't going to be able to accept much more of the abuse you seem to have inflicted upon it in these last three years. Sober is how you'll need to stay if you want to live your happily ever after with this girl of yours."_

_Teddy felt his fingers cramp as he gripped his seat tightly, but he didn't release his hold._

"_Just take this concoction, a sip every day until it runs out. That should get your health stable enough once more. But you'll need to drink some more for every time you drink wizarding alcohol again. Is that ok?"_

_Teddy nodded silently._

"_And you don't need to tell anyone if you don't want to. You have my utmost promise of confidentiality. I won't tell a soul, but it will have to go on your records, so any future employers would be able to see this."_

"_Thank you," Teddy said, mechanically. And with that, he accepted the vial of potion and left, the woman's eyes burning into his back as he departed._

"I never told her." Teddy said in an undertone.

"What's that mate?" Timothy asked as he wiped a glass clean and made to refill Teddy's glass again. Teddy placed his hand over the lip of his glass to stop him, his other hand searching his jacket for the vial he had placed in his pocket. He felt a panic rise in his chest. It wasn't there. Cursing under his breath, Teddy stood, but the alcohol coursing through his veins seemed to have robbed him of his balance, because he toppled over onto the floor before he could get his bearings.

"Whoops, watch out there Ted, don't want to hurt yourself now do we?" chuckled Timothy, before greeting a young couple warmly and directing them to a table by the window. Teddy blinked, trying to get his vision into focus. The colours were all blending into one another, everything turning into pastel drawings and smudging at the edges. Voices began to dim and crescendo in equal measure in his head, a strange ringing making their words incoherent.

Heaving himself up into a standing position, Teddy staggered back up to the bar, dropping some gold coins beside his empty glass. Timothy gave a nod of appreciation, watching with a concerned expression as Teddy failed to regain his balance and again he clattered to the floor.

There was a darker shadow falling over everything he laid eyes upon, people's faces were blurring into shapes and swirls. There was a tickling in Teddy's chest and he rose a hand to his mouth and coughed, his breastbone aching from the force of his wheezing. Glancing down at his hand, he thought he could see a spatter of crimson but it was so indistinct, he couldn't work out what it was.

Hauling himself up again, Teddy held his breath, as if hoping this would help his equilibrium somewhat as he stumbled over to the door, and out into the street. Glancing up at the clock on one of the shop's walls, Teddy rolled his eyes. Nearly ten o'clock. Well, that was him fired from work. He nearly laughed at himself; this was a record even for Alcoholic Teddy from three years ago. He was drunk before lunch.

In fact, he did laugh.

It began as just a smile – a small smirk that spread across his pale features. Then a short laugh that turned into a light chuckle. And then he laughed out loud. He laughed until tears were rolling down his cheeks. He paid no heed to the passers by that threw him disparaging looks, their superior faces looking down upon the drunken young man. He cared not for how mirthless the laugh became, he carried on laughing.

He laughed even as the darkness that had produced a veil over the world around him slipped finally upon his mind. And the voices stopped. The ringing stopped. The laughing stopped. And Teddy Lupin gave a final sigh of breathless relief as his body fell to the ground and refused to stir.

Victoire sat cradling the box in her hands. It was heavy in her pale hands and she gave a hiccough as she unclipped the lid for a final time, gazing at the beautiful gift that lay inside. The bright blue of the central sapphire glittered as she gazed lovingly at it, running her finger over the smooth stone.

She glanced up at the clock. It past ten o'clock already; she was due to hand in her assignment on Healing potions in half an hour. Giving a sigh, Victoire returned to the bedroom, trying to ignore the many signs that Teddy had removed his things, and changed her clothes quickly.

Organising her papers hastily, the blonde woman placed the ring on her bedside cabinet, unsure as to what to do with it, before breathing deeply to steady herself, and apparating out of her apartment.

When she arrived at her tutor's office, she knocked hastily and heard the soft voice reply, "Enter."

Smoothing her robes momentarily, Victoire entered upon command and found herself in the office of her mentor. Miss Woodstock was a very beautiful woman, and Victoire couldn't help the hits her ego always took when she stood in her presence. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun today, and yet she couldn't have looked more perfect.

Brushing past this, Victoire walked up to the desk Miss Woodstock was sat behind and placed the parchment in front of her.

"Hmmm, two minutes late," Miss Woodstock told her, a mocking smirk on her face that caused Victoire to blush as she glanced at the clock, and saw her to be right. It was thirty-two minute past ten.

"But, I guess we can survive this one time, can we not, Miss Weasley? You've been impeccably good throughout the rest of your year, so I can see past this one error. I'm sure you had a very good reason."

Victoire nodded, not feeling in the mood to chat as her mind was a little more than preoccupied by the name written on the parchment in Miss Woodstock's hand. When the older woman saw to where Victoire's attention had been drawn to, she gave a sad sigh.

"Such a shame. He was only twenty-three. I treated him a few months ago; he wanted to give up drinking on account of 'this girl'. I told him he'd better not go back to drinking even if he lost the girl, another drop of alcohol could have been fatal. It seems he didn't listen to my advice. Such a shame," she repeated, shaking her head and rubbing her neck, her finger tracing the symbol she had tattooed just below her jaw.

"What d-do you mean…a shame?" Victoire asked, her breaths short and sharp in her chest.

"I'm sorry Victoire, but you're going to have to get used to this if you want to be a Healer. We can't save every soul that needs our help. He was beyond aid by the time I was called for. It happens sometimes." Her voice was sorrowful, but firm as she spoke to the younger girl, and Victoire felt the denial force Miss Woodstock's words from her mind; rejecting them.

"_What do you mean?_" she demanded once again, wishing for a better answer. Not a wordy way around the truth.

"He's dead, why should it matter to you?" Miss Woodstock asked, her eyebrows raised. Victoire felt her eyes sting and before she could stop herself, her control abandoned her and she fell, her hand catching the desk before she could hit the floor as a ripping cry broke the silence that had followed Miss Woodstock's question.

She looked up into the older woman's dark eyes, tears veiling her sparkling blue orbs as her despair seeped from her very aura.

"You're the girl," Miss Woodstock said, simply, harsh realisation in her tone.

Victoire nodded, but contradictorily, replied "No."

"I _was_ the girl."

**Thank you so much for reading, please leave a review! I just want to say the biggest thanks ever to Aebbe and her inner English teacher, you've made this into a much better story than I intended it to be, it mean a lot you'd help me so much! *chocolate brownies to Aebbe and anyone who reviews!***

**Love **_**arwenjanelilylyra **_**(**_**AJLL**_**) x**


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